Elysvarre
Seven nights after Sheena's Freedom Decree.
Every evening, as the candles in Sheena's room begin to flicker out and the world settles into a hushed silence, her thoughts drift towards one name that lingers in her heart like an old melody. The quiet surroundings echo the emptiness within her soul, filled only by memories of Fitran, the figure who stirs her emotions and ignites an unvoiced longing deep within.
Fitran.
She would sit by her bedside, the silk curtains draping around her like a protective cocoon, separating her from the world outside. In her hand, she always held a black ribbon—the very one that Fitran had tied around her wrist when he made the conscious choice to be her protector, not her savior. Gently, she touches the ribbon, feeling the warmth that lingers, as though his touch still remains, awakening hope buried beneath layers of sorrow and uncertainty.
"I didn't ask him to come into my life," Sheena thought. "He chose this himself." The voice of her heart resonates, and for a moment, she imagines the time when Fitran gazed at her with a warmth that could even soothe the dry night winds. "Why did he have to go?" she ponders again, stepping deeper into the labyrinth of her thoughts, thick with yearning.
On nights like this, Sheena would open her diary. Not to record politics or magic, but to write a single sentence that she always repeated: as if that sentence had become a mantra that helped her survive in the darkness. She contemplated their journey together, envisioning the small steps they had taken beneath the same moonlight, believing that, although separated by distance, her heart remained connected in a way that was beyond explanation.
"I choose to remember him."
In a world where will is often inherited or imposed by social norms, Sheena felt a profound sense of true freedom—the authentic right to love completely and unapologetically. Even though her heart remained tethered to memories that were difficult to erase, there was a glimmer of hope igniting in her thoughts. "What does love mean if we are not free to choose it?" she questioned herself, gazing at her reflection in the mirror with deep contemplation. She understood that true love must be discovered through personal agency, not dictated by others, and that the freedom to choose is the very essence of love itself.
Not for a kingdom. Not for an agreement. But for herself.
On the eighth morning after the Decree, the citizens of Elysvarre gathered in the bustling central plaza, drawn together by a newfound sense of community. A new flag—pure white and vibrant purple, symbolizing the freedom of will—fluttered proudly atop the towers. Laughter and enthusiasm began to replace the sadness that had once enveloped them, as a young man shouted, "We are the architects of our own destiny!" raising his hand confidently and inspiring those around him to embrace their newfound freedom.
The market began to flourish, filled with a cacophony of lively sounds and fresh aromas wafting from the new harvest. Craftsmen, traders, and farmers united in new associations that had once been restricted by outdated laws, each carrying aspirations and dreams so vivid that they seemed to be reborn in a refreshing new light. Sheena smiled, feeling the positive energy surge through every corner of the street. She envisioned a bright future, where love could blossom freely, and dreams could be realized without the constraints of fear.
Yet, Fitran sensed that something was not quite right.
The wind felt colder than usual. Occasionally, she caught a strange aroma that made her uneasy. "What is this?" she murmured, frowning. "Is something approaching?"
The dew falling in the gardens formed odd patterns—small circles resembling ancient glyphs. As Sheena wandered through the garden, she felt as if the glyphs were calling out to her, beckoning her to uncover their significance. "There's meaning behind this," she whispered to herself, a mixture of longing and curiosity amplifying the unsettled vibration within her heart, pulling her toward an inexplicable destiny.
In the royal hall, the birds that usually chirped every morning... were silent. The atmosphere felt oppressive, with each second weighing down like it could be sliced with a knife. A feeling of unease enveloped her, as if every visitor's heart held unspoken secrets.
That night, while Sheena was writing in her diary, the old whispers returned. She gripped her pencil tighter, sensing a cold tingle seeping into her bones. "I have to be ready," she thought, trying to shake off the worries lingering in her mind.
"Choice is the highest expression of will within us, the force that determines our path in life," she recalled, drawing strength from her understanding of autonomy.
"But a will that violates heritage... bears the Anathema."
The window of her room trembled even though there was no storm. The moonlight shifted from lavender to black. Sheena gazed outside, watching the wind play with the branches of the trees, as if dancing to a rhythm that only she could hear. It felt as though another presence was watching, existing yet elusive.
In the mirror of her room, a shadow appeared—tall, draped in a shroud of mist. Her heart raced, a mix of fear and curiosity bubbling within. "Who is that?" she whispered to herself, her thoughts echoing in the stillness of the room.
Veyrundis.
This time, it was not the passive will that had spoken to them before. It was Veyrundis Anatema.
The aspect of Judgment.
"You have forsaken your heritage."
"The new meaning you inscribe... is invalid." Its voice flowed like a rushing river, sharp yet full of power. Sheena felt as if all her curiosity was being siphoned away, leaving only a piercing fear. "I must resist, even if it seems impossible," she murmured softly, a flicker of determination igniting deep within her, fragile though it seemed.
Sheena stood, trembling. "I do not regret."
Yet, beneath her words, she felt her heartbeat thundering with uncertainty. It was as if each second bore the weight of a colossal choice. "You will."
In another room, Fitran awoke. The walls of the chamber whispered, as if trying to convey something crucial. An ancient Willcraft mantra formed in the air, glowing pale blue, like an unforgettable memory. Fitran's expression turned serious as he recalled the responsibilities that weighed upon him.
Veyrundis called.
He drew Excalibur and ran towards Sheena's room, his mind filled with agitation. Each step felt heavy, yet his resolve burned bright. Upon arriving, he found the wooden door shattered. A black fog filled the room.
In the midst of the fog, Sheena stood alone. However, this time she did not appear frightened. In her heart, a spirit blossomed, like a flower blooming amidst a storm.
"Don't interfere, Fitran," she said, her voice firm yet trembling. "This is between me and my will."
Veyrundis roared, his voice echoing like thunder in the night sky.
"You wish to rewrite the legacy, yet you violate one fundamental law that cannot be ignored."
"Every will, even the new, will be tested."
The fog thickened. From the shadows emerged new creatures.
Fitran felt a vibration in his soul as the creatures emerged, as if the world around him trembled with invisible energy. Was this all part of a greater will?
Anathema Creatures.
Not those made of gold as before, but of shattered purple light—a symbol of broken will.
The creatures floated, their forms ever-changing, creating an illusion of terrifying uncertainty. They seemed to whisper doubt directly into Fitran's heart.
"Fight them, or your legacy will be erased."
Fitran drew Excalibur.
But as he swung his sword, the blade passed through the Anathema creatures without inflicting harm.
Sheena screamed, "You can't fight them with steel! They are not mere beings. They are the true test of will, a loss of physical attacks that cannot touch their essence."
For a moment, Fitran stood frozen, gazing into Sheena's hopeful eyes, reminding him of an unspoken promise to protect one another. He took a deep breath, steeling his heart.
Fitran embraced Sheena. "Then we must face them not as fighters, but as those who choose."
He held Sheena's hand tightly.
The Anathema creatures paused.
Sheena looked at Fitran, tears in her eyes not out of fear, but because of a truth that touched her deeply.
Sheena lifted her left hand, still holding onto the black ribbon. She spoke words that were not a spell, but pure meaning. "I accept the Anatema."
Fitran looked at her in shock, his feelings a mix of admiration and uncertainty about the decision Sheena had made. In his heart, a wave of respect and awe arose for Sheena's courage, making him feel that they were bonded by more than just a physical connection. "If my will is tested, I will face it. I will not run away. Because I choose the meaning I believe in."
He felt a strong presence of love, as if an invisible wall was being built to protect them from the approaching darkness.
"I love you, not because you are a savior."
"But because you choose to stay by my side even when you know I cannot be saved."
A circle of violet light appeared at their feet.
A new Glyph Willcraft formed.
Not an old glyph.
Not one created by ancestors.
But the result of Sheena's and Fitran's will.
Sheena felt a surge of energy, as if every light that appeared carried the beautiful memories they shared. A gentle sigh hung in the air, as if the night recognized their pure love. She gazed at Fitran, her eyes shimmering with hope and determination.
"Voluntatem Novam: Pactum Libertas."
"New Will: Covenant of Freedom."
The Anathema creature trembled. Their light cracked and then shattered into purple rose petals. Fitran, sensing the tremor, tightened his grip on Sheena's hand, as if reinforcing each other against the unknown force.
Veyrundis whispered:
"A will tested… that does not retreat in the face of fear is a testament to the strength of the spirit," Veyrundis whispered, as if imparting an ancient truth that resonated with Sheena's very soul.
"Accepted."
The mist receded, and it seemed as if time momentarily stopped, giving them a chance to feel every heartbeat. The room was filled with the warmth of their unspoken love.
Sheena's room mirror shattered into a multitude of fragments, each one glimmering with light instead of glass. The shards fell slowly, creating a soft melody from the flowing energy, as if celebrating a historic moment that signified both transformation and unity.
The atmosphere fell silent once again, but this silence was different, deeper. Fitran embraced Sheena. "Whatever the next trial may be, we will face it together."
Sheena lowered her head onto his chest. "I will no longer be afraid of the night. Because every night I think of you. And I know... you will always choose me, even if the world does not."
tears of joy rolled down her cheeks, creating a small glimmer from the tenderness of her heart.
Concordia Hall, The Next Day
In front of nobles and the people, Sheena and Fitran announced:
"Elysvarre stands not on gold, but on the will chosen together."
Thousands of eyes watched them, each face radiating enthusiasm and new hope. The people responded not with cheers, but by raising their right hands, a symbol of unity and strength in their resolve.
This symbol of a new will, united in brilliant light, is far more precious than mere gold.